


Puzzling

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, and others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: Shinguuji doesn’t betray his surprise at being acknowledged, and calmly explains with a wave of his fork,“You see, oftentimes, I will leave unsolved riddles on my desk, hoping to figure them out by taking a walk or something to that degree; but when I return, I have come to find that the answers to the riddles would somehow have magically appeared on the page in my absence.”





	Puzzling

**Author's Note:**

> For the [AAC2017 December 7th prompt](http://auideas.tumblr.com/day/2017/12/07/): _While trying to finish a piece of writing, Character A leaves their work unattended…only to return and find that someone had finished a sentence for them in the perfect way._
> 
> I kiiiinda only loosely followed the prompt but I hope that's okay!

“It is rather peculiar,” Shinguuji mutters, pushing the pasta around his plate with a fork.

There’s a particularly strange looking tomato in the dish that he flicks onto the table, relishing in the disgusted look Toujou sends his way.

She picks it up with a napkin and lobs it into the bin behind him with incredibly perfect accuracy – but he’d dare to infer that had she been any person other than herself, she would rather have thrown it straight at his head.

Saihara asks, taking the bait with a hint of wariness, “... what is peculiar?”

Shinguuji doesn’t betray his surprise at being acknowledged, and calmly explains with a wave of his fork, “You see, oftentimes, I will leave unsolved riddles on my desk, hoping to figure them out by taking a walk or something to that degree; but when I return, I have come to find that the answers to the riddles would somehow have magically appeared on the page in my absence.”

“So it’s maaagic.” Yumeno drawls from all the way down the table, before Chabashira hushes her and shields her from Shinguuji, muttering something about ‘not talking to creepy boys’. He finds the interaction sweet, but decides to otherwise move on.

He hears Amami ask Yumeno something about magic, only to be forcibly shoved out of the conversation by Chabashira, who is seconds away from using her tomatoes as projectiles not unlike Shinguuji moments earlier. When Ouma points this out, Chabashira glares at him and raises her palms, but Toujou steps in rather pointedly to play damage control. Truly, Shinguuji admires her resolve.

“Maybe you solved them already but then forgot about it right after?” Saihara suggests. He pokes at his own pasta with little enthusiasm, unaided by the fact that Ouma keeps trying to throw carrots onto his plate.

“I am insulted that you’d imply my memory could be nearly that appalling,” Shinguuji replies, tone betraying none of his emotions, had he any to show. “Do you want me to tear out your nerves?”

“I’m sorry.” Saihara immediately apologizes, stuffing a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth to avoid spurring any further offense. Amami and Akamatsu share a laugh from the end of the table, though in the midst of all the conversations in the room, Shinguuji cannot be certain that they are eavesdropping on this particular one.

“Maybe it’s a ghost!” Ouma exclaims excitedly, and very suddenly, from Saihara’s right – just in time for Momota on Saihara’s other side to choke on his mouthful of pasta. Saihara starts to pat his back gently, but Momota is not having it.

“There’s no such thing as _ghosts_!” Momota shrieks, recovering remarkably quickly. “No! Such! Thing!”

“Yes, there is!”

“No, there isn’t!”

Ouma huffs discontentedly. “Maybe there’s one on you right now, but you wouldn’t know because it’s invisible.” He gasps and suddenly pales, pointing at Momota, “Oh no, oh no, Momota-chan, th-there’s a ghost in your hair!”

“No! No, no, no!” Momota shrieks again, slamming his fist down on the table repeatedly to punctuate each iteration of ‘no’. “There are no ghosts! That is a fact, and I am sure of it!”

“I’m just saying,” Ouma continues innocently, “There’s always a possibility, y’know? Truth be told, I’m a professional ghost whisperer, so I would know these kinds of things. You can’t argue with a professional, Momota-chan, it’ll make you look like an idiot.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?!”

“Just a lie, of course, you’d look like an idiot regardless!” Ouma grins at him.

“Why you – !”

“Guys.” Saihara sighs. Some more carrots have migrated onto his plate and he knocks at them morosely. “Some of us are trying to eat.”

Though he is well aware that his input is currently unwelcome and entirely unnecessary, Shinguuji adds, “Actually, the concept of the ghost is a human construct, not unlike the broader concept of beliefs, viewpoints and moral standings. To say that a ghost does not exist is hypothetically just as true and as rational as to say that a ghost does exist, though I personally am in agreement with the latter. The souls of the dead – ”

“Ah, right. Okay.” Saihara interrupts weakly, fork raised, “As I was saying, some of us are trying to eat.” He looks at Shinguuji pointedly. “We can talk about this later, Shinguuji-kun.”

Shinguuji chuckles. “I understand. So, you too have an interest in what comes after one’s passing. Shall I interest you in my stance on – ”

“Blah blah blah, no-one cares,” Ouma cuts in. “What I wanna know is why you’re trying to solve riddles anyway, I mean, isn’t it just a waste of time? Riddles are lame. They’re like jokes, but they’re not even funny!”

“They are amusing for different reasons.” Shinguuji replies stiffly.

“Wow, yep, you’re a hardcore loser just like Shirogane-chan, aren’t you,” Ouma remarks, ignoring Shirogane’s meek gasp from the other side of the cafeteria. “Fine. I guess if you so desperately need our help, we can help you find the mysterious riddle solver. Isn’t that right, detective Saihara-chan?”

“I didn’t agree to this…” Saihara answers quietly. “... though I am curious, now that I think about it.”

“Well, then it’s settled!” Ouma slides the rest of the carrots he picked out onto Saihara’s plate, happily ignoring the frown the detective gives him for his efforts. “You, me and Shinguuji-chan are going to find the culprit together! … even though I already know who it is.”

“Then there is no need for investigation.” Shinguuji says, pushing his pasta to the middle of the table. He doesn’t need to finish it when there are more pressing matters to attend to. “Who is it?”

“Nuh-uh! It’s not like I’m gonna just tell you who it is, where’s the fun in that?” Ouma hands his empty plate to Toujou, beaming angelically at her and mouthing ‘thanks mom’ as she moves on to tend to somebody else. “I already told you it was a person, and that’s a major important clue, y’know! You’ve gotta figure their identity out yourself!”

“Do you really know who it is, Ouma-kun?” Saihara asks, waiting until Momota turns away to generously donate some carrots to his best friend’s plate.

“Would I lie to you, Saihara-chan?”

Saihara sighs again. “I figured as much. By the way, Shinguuji-kun, by your ‘desk’, are you referring to the desk in your dorm room or somewhere else? We might be able to narrow down the options if you’ve been leaving your riddles in a place only a few people can access.”

Shinguuji shakes his head. “It is the desk in my research lab. Anybody can enter it, though I highly doubt they would. It is catered to my interests, after all.”

“But Angie-chan’s research lab is on the same floor, right? So doesn’t that make her the most obvious suspect?” Ouma points out, eyes shining.

“While I don’t doubt Angie-san’s riddle solving ability,” Saihara says carefully. “She doesn’t seem… the type to do things in secret.”

“Angie-san has helped with riddles in the past,” Shinguuji reasons. “She is good at abstract puzzles.”

“Boo,” Ouma says. He picks at his nails. “You both gave boring answers. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“We’re not trying to entertain you,” Saihara tells him.

“That’s a mistake on your part, my beloved Saihara-chan,” Ouma pats his arm twice. “It's okay though, I forgive you. Anyway, we’ve got to gather some evidence and then we’ll talk! But first,” he waves Toujou over again. “Tea break!”

* * *

 

Once their tea break is over, and Toujou thoroughly scolds each and every one of them for not finishing off any of their plates, the three of them head to Shinguuji’s research lab with varying degrees of relief. The riddle book, as Shinguuji describes it, lies proudly in the centre of his desk, surrounded by short stacks of documents and other historical artifacts.

Though Saihara has been to Shinguuji’s lab multiple times in the past, it still never fails to impress him with its sheer length and size; the numerous shelves of books towering around them like a cityscape of written knowledge – skyscrapers built of wisdom.

“Whoever’s writing in your notebook has beautiful handwriting,” Saihara comments, flipping through the pages of the riddle book with undisguised awe.

Shinguuji stares disbelievingly at him. “I am the one writing in my notebook, Saihara-kun.”

“Ah, no, I meant – well, your handwriting is beautiful too, but –”

“Oooh! Look at this shiny sword!”

Shinguuji whips around to spot Ouma brandishing the katana usually on display in his research lab. “Put that down if you want your limbs to stay intact.” He hisses, and Ouma squeaks. He narrows his eyes as Ouma ever-so-slowly puts the katana back where he found it. “And if you touch that again, I’ll end you.”

“O-okay, no touchy, I got it…” Ouma steps away from the sword, one step, two steps, then in a flurry of quick movements, skips over to peer over Saihara’s shoulder instead. “Sooo what’s the plan, Saihara-chan?”

“I was thinking handwriting samples,” Saihara admits with a sheepish smile. “But it would be pretty suspicious to suddenly ask everyone to write something for us.”

“We could say it’s one of Shinguuji-chan’s pet projects!”

“Ah…” Saihara glances at Shinguuji then quickly back at the notebook in his hands. “I think that would make them um… more suspicious. Not less. No offence, Shinguuji-kun.”

“None taken. To have such an image in the eyes of my friends…” Shinguuji puts a hand over his chest and closes his eyes. “I am most pleased to hear it.”

“Yep, that’s weird.” Ouma comments bluntly.

“Um,” Saihara closes the book, not dignifying either of them with a proper response. “How about we just ask everyone? It’s not like they’ve got anything to hide, right? And they’re not just playing a trick on Shinguuji-kun, because reading these answers, they’re actually… the right answers, to the riddles. So maybe they’re trying to help him?”

They both blink at him.

“Ah, and um…” Saihara’s grip tightens on the book. “If you think about it, we have sort of a profile already. They’re clever enough to solve these riddles quickly, they’re helpful but secretive about it, and they must have nice handwriting, right?”

“That could be anyone.” Ouma supplies helpfully.

“Well, not _anyone_.” Shinguuji muses.

“No, that could be anyone.” Ouma repeats. “Can we really, truly, confidently say that nobody here fits that criteria?” He considers this for a moment. “Okay, yeah, maybe not Momota-chan –”

“Leave him out of this,” Saihara says, finally handing the book back to Shinguuji. “If we’re going by process of elimination, we can say it definitely wasn’t Chabashira-san. By that token, it probably wasn’t Yumeno-san either.”

Ouma yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“It’s not Ouma-kun, because his handwriting is bad,” Saihara notes nonchalantly.

Ouma takes a moment to process this, then; “Saihara-chan!” he whines. “That’s mean!”

Unable to hide his growing smile, Saihara continues, “It’s not Shinguuji-kun either, because otherwise we’d be going in circles and that’s –” He pauses, and looks up at Shinguuji, as if suddenly remembering who he was dealing with. “Wait. You didn’t just set this whole thing up, did you?”

Shinguuji covers his masked mouth with his hands. “And what, pray tell, would be the point in doing that?”

“I don’t know… research, maybe?”

“Or making friends,” enters a new voice, and Ouma practically squeals as he sprints towards the newcomer, and Amami catches him with an ‘oof’.

“Amami-chan, they’re bullying me!” He sobs, “Saihara-chan and Shinguuji-chan are ganging up on me!”

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara says, sounding a little guilty.

Ouma turns around, expression blank and void of tears, “What?”

“Ah… nothing.” He clears his throat. “Amami-kun, what were you saying about making friends?”

Amami smiles, “Who knows?”

“Amami-chan, please don’t do this, I’m surrounded by cryptic people on all sides and I’m scared,” Ouma tells him, wrapping his arms around himself. “How is it that I have become the most straightforward person here? This isn’t natural.”

“There, there.” Amami says. “You already knew from the start, didn’t you? I’d say you’ve gotten everyone exactly where you wanted them.”

“Ah.” Saihara and Shinguuji say at the exact same time. They exchange a glance, then look at Amami.

“It was you?” Saihara asks, prying the book from Shinguuji's hands again as if the handwriting within will confirm his suspicions.

He doesn’t have to, it seems, because Amami just shrugs and confesses. “Yeah, it was me. I gotta admit it was pretty funny seeing you guys stress over it in the cafeteria, but I promise all my intentions were good.”

“Why?” Shinguuji inquires, gaze skeptical. “You certainly went to a lot of effort to pull this prank on me.”

“It wasn’t a prank,” Amami says, placing his hand on Ouma’s head to stop the boy’s fidgeting. “Akamatsu-san wanted us all to bond more, so I’ve been, ah, making some moves, so to speak. You're not the only one I've been keeping tabs on, but as someone who has a lot of siblings, I'm kind of used to it.” He looks a little embarrassed to admit it but adds, “Also, I just really like riddles, they’re quite nostalgic.”

“It sort of suits you,” Saihara agrees, tilting his head to the side. “You look like someone who likes puzzles.”

“Amami-chan’s the puzzle guy!” Ouma chirps, head-butting Amami's palm.

Amami laughs, bringing that same hand to the back of his neck. “Haha, I’ve never been the ‘puzzle guy’ before. Guess there’s a first for everything.” He hums, "I didn't think I'd end up seeing you three hanging out together, but I think it turned out pretty good in the end, if I do say so myself."

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Shinguuji begins to say, fiddling with the locket around his neck. He can feel his pulse thrumming under his jacket, and holds onto the locket tighter. “Your meddling wasn’t entirely unappreciated.”

Amami’s smile widens. “Aw. Did you have fun, Shinguuji-kun?”

“Hmm, it appears that as of a few seconds ago, I have concluded that this is far too many people in my lab, so I’d like to kindly yet firmly request that you all leave now.”

“Are you kicking me out, Shinguuji-chan?” Ouma asks with wide eyes. “Even though I love riddles as much as you do?”

“You’re all getting kicked out.” He replies, stalking over to the sword. “You have until the count of three.”

“W-wait, isn’t this a bit drastic –” Saihara starts, before Ouma latches onto his arm and starts dragging him out.

“We’re gonna get killed, Saihara-chan! Protect me!”

“What about Amami-kun, hey, you’re pulling too hard!” Saihara staggers out the door after Ouma, Amami strolling casually behind.

“I’m right behind you, Saihara-kun," Amami tells him, not in a hurry at all. "Lead the way.” He stops just before the sliding doors, and calls over his shoulder, “You know, Shinguuji-kun, you don’t always have to sit so far away from the rest of us. We’re all stuck here under some pretty odd circumstances, so don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Your sentiments are... certainly acknowledged. Unity under adversity is also an aspect of humanity that I find rather beautiful." Shinguuji replies. “Also I have a sword, Amami-kun.”

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” he laughs again, waving a dismissive hand. “You might want to check your desk again though, I think Ouma stole your book.”


End file.
